


Lemon Drops On the Sidewalk

by orangevines



Category: Aldnoah.Zero (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Character Death, M/M, Major Character Injury, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-12
Updated: 2018-09-12
Packaged: 2019-07-11 06:33:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15966698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orangevines/pseuds/orangevines
Summary: A head filled with lovely warm words is said to make for the perfect rest.





	Lemon Drops On the Sidewalk

Inaho stares at his phone.

The pain in his side is firing,

It burns,

But at the same time, it allows him the comfort of knowing that this is not the end yet.

Not yet.

Not before the phone stops ringing.

_Ring. Ring. Ring._

"Inaho?" When the call is finally answered, a familiar voice brings blessing to his name.

"Good evening, Slaine." Inaho smiles slightly, clutching the phone to his ear as he slumps against the wall of the dreary alley.

This could have happened to anyone, no? This could have _been_ anyone. Crime in a large city is certainly not unheard of, and murders happen everyday. However, when everyone settles into bed, what crosses their mind is usually not ' _Tomorrow, it could be me.'_

"Is something wrong? I just got home, please forgive me if you've been trying to reach me for a while..." Slaine's voice is tender, it draws Inaho's thoughts away from the hot, throbbing pains in his side. It makes the images of the trigger being pulled as his wallet is taken less cruel.

It could have been worse, he decides.

"Ah, I just-" His throat closes for a moment as he glances towards the street. Maybe if he had called for help instead of speaking with Slaine, he could be saved.

No, that is untrue. He knows it is not possible. Not for him, not like this. Perhaps if Inaho had been lucky like all of the inspirational stories his sister loved to read about or watch on TV; the ones where the bullet misses an organ just by centimeters, but no. This time, luck is not for him.

"...Inaho?" His name is said again, this time in concern. He doesn't want it to be said that way, not if it's the last time he'll hear it.

"My apologies, I tripped." Inaho lies easily, his tone concealing the fire coursing through his body. "As I was saying...I only meant to call just to remind you that I care for you,"

"Oh.." There is a shuffling sound from the other side of the phone; Inaho swears he can hear Slaine blush. If he closes his eyes, it is like being back on the couch, cuddled against his favourite blond under the excessive amount of pillows and blankets.

"Also, I bought groceries yesterday." The brunet adds after a few moments of quiet. He rubs one hand across his forehead to brush the bangs from his eyes, leaving a mess of gravel and blood on his skin. "So, you may make whatever you want for dinner tonight."

"Whatever I want?" Slaine is smirking now, it is not hard to tell through the tone of his voice.

"Yes, whatever."

"Even ice cream?"

"I would prefer you choose something of nutritional value..." Inaho murmurs, smiling again to himself as he gazes up at the thin strip of dark sky presented to him from the two buildings he's remained between. Taking care of Slaine is nice; it has never been a chore, and it still does not feel taxing now. It is relieving... _Sweet_ _._

"Fine." A half-hearted huff in response. "I am going to make sandwiches, then."

"The peanut butter and jam kind?" _Slaine_ _loves_ _those._

"...Probably,"

"That's fine. As long as you're eating,"

His heart aches, which given his current situation, could just be another reminder that he is running low on time. He wants to believe it's happiness, however. Inaho wants nothing more than to believe that he's _happy._

There's nothing to be sad about, is there?

Even if there is, dying with feelings of loss is a burden that he has no energy to carry.

Though, it may not be up to him, in the end.

"And did _you_ eat?" Slaine is more chastizing than curious, but Inaho doesn't mind. It is regular, normal...Just what he had called for. _Warm_ _._

It's hard to recollect how his own day had gone, actually. He can recall waking up, saying goodbye to Slaine; _at least he had done that._

He walked into work, though he doesn't remember this happening, he knows it must have. Sometime during the blur, he bought a salty snack from the vending machine at the bottom floor of his office. Somewhere in his mind, an image of the financial graphs he had been putting together come to him. That is what he can remember of his original day.

The most recent thing, so horribly fresh in his thoughts, is what it felt like to have his face pressed into the concrete wall. How it felt to have to worry about showing no fear while his possessions were plucked from his pocket. What it felt like to forcively turn around to see the face responsible for keeping him away from home, only to have a trigger pulled at his abdomen... _What a lousy last thing to remember._

 _No,_ that is not the last thing. He is calling Slaine. He is hearing his voice, relishing it for the comfort it has always brought him. That is what he will take to rest with him. That is what he meant for.

"Yes, I ate." Inaho finds himself chuckling quietly, perhaps out of nervousness or discomfort, but it is nice to believe that it's the concerns of his partner that have prompted the response. _So_ _concerned_ _._ _Always_ _, so_ _concerned_ _._

"What's so funny?" Slaine asks, shuffling on his end of the phone. He is sitting down on the couch, the squeak of the cushions is recognizable. Familiar. _Home_ _._ "Today must've been good for you if you're even laughing, hm. You can tell me about that over dinner,"

Inaho doesn't respond for a few minutes. He closes his eyes and rests his hand over his stomach where the blood still continues to pour. Even his bones feel chilled now, as if they might be carved from ice and stone.

"Oh-" Inaho's silence is regular, he's never been very talkative. This means now, Slaine is undeterred by it; he knows his boyfriend has a busy mind that is always producing unshared thoughts. _This is normalcy._

"I...I bought an apron for you, earlier..." Slaine continues, his voice softening again with embarrassment.

His voice is fuzzy now; hard to follow. His words feel like mush in Inaho's ears, but just the sound of his voice is still enough. It is wind and the crackling in a fireplace; gentle, dangerous at times, but soothing when he needs it.

"Thoughtful...That was thoughtful," He can feel the blood previously smeared on his forehead drying as he swallows the bitter taste of metal. He forces his eyes open again, just a little, to ask as his uncharacteristically fuzzy mind deems fit, "And?"

"And...What? You need to clarify,"

 _And? What other clothes did you want to buy? What silly people did you see? Did_ _you_ _get to_ _see_ _the_ _renovations at_ _the_ _mall with the fountain that you like to throw_ _pennies_ _in?_

He suddenly wants to ask a million, unimportant questions. He just wants to hear Slaine continue speaking. However, he cannot make any of those things come out.

"Right...Mm..." Inaho stops, lowering the phone with his tiring arm as he murmurs, "Never mind."

He can feel his heart beating rapidly, but far too softly. His entire body feels like an empty puppet, stripped even of its stuffing. It hurts; it's numb; he feels so, so tired.

Covering the speaker, the young boy takes a deep breath and coughs towards the dirtied pavement.

Breathing just to speak is difficult.

Holding his eyes open just to stare at the wall ahead is difficult.

It's all so heavy. _Too_ _heavy_ _._

"Well..." He swallows again, forcing back bile and blood for the last time he can manage. "I just called to say that I care for you, so..."

"Ah, right. You'll be home soon?" Slaine asks, his voice is so light...So carefree...So unknowing.

It is better that way. Much better.

"I love you." Inaho says simply, closing his eyes as he allows the hand holding the phone to drop to his lap.

_"_ _I love_ _you too."_

_Warm. So warm._

Inaho smiles again as he shuts his phone and clasps it as tightly as he can in his weak hold. His skin is colder than the gravel, and perhaps it would be near the same colour if not stained by his own mortality.

For a moment, he feels nothing at all. The world is distant, the sound of cars in the distance are soft, and his entire body feels like the work of another pilot. It is gentle; _inevitable._

 _Inevitable._ That word suddenly makes the fire return, it makes his entire body ache. He hadn't thought about what would happen next, for once, but now it's a plague in his mind. Inaho struggles to move, to grab at anything he can.

He doesn't _want_ to go. All at once, the realization of all the things he had left to do come to him. Inaho struggles to take another breath, it is shallow, much too shaky. His gut feels twisted and filled with rocks, but everything is out of touch. He is out of touch, and there is nothing to be done.

Inaho Kaizuka is scared. He clutches his fingers around pebbles and dust that scrape at his skin.

_What goodbyes was_ _I_ _supposed to say?_ _What_ _secrets was_ _I_ _supposed_ _to_ _tell? Where should_ _I_ _have visited, and what_ _sights_ _should_ _I_ _have seen?_

He suddenly misses it all. He misses what he had, and what he'll never try.

_This is_ _grieving_ _,_ _isn't_ _it?_

He is grieving for his own life. It was nice; he had never asked for anything more than he had until now. But, a selfish few wishes are alright now, right?

He wishes he had met his parents, that he had a father to go to all of the family events with. Yuki was perfect, of course. He could never want to get rid of the special "Sister Day" he had decided on when he was younger. Never would he want her to be less important to him, however...It did not matter now. He could not give his goodbyes to his only family, nor could he ever learn more about the family he did not have.

Inaho wishes he had been able to visit the town Slaine had grown up in. He wishes he could have held his hand there, and gotten involved in some of the culture that was important to his boyfriend. He wishes he had memory of the oceans in Norway and the rocky beaches that shaped them. He wishes he could have proposed there.

The cold on his skin is harsh, and it nips without pity at what he can still feel. The young boy can feel the warmth pouring from his stomach mix where numbness has seeped into his legs.

 _It hurts._ He finds himself thinking.

 _But,_ _it's_ _okay._ A familiar voice responds in his head.

Of the things he feels being taken right out from under him, Inaho knows that Slaine's voice is not one of them. He can hear his words; his gentle "I love you."

Stiffly, his fingers unfold from the fist they had made on the bloodied dirt path.

_I love you. I love you. I_ _love_ _you._

His expression relaxes as he takes a deep breath,

A final breath.

A sweet breath filled with the last words he got to hear,

And finally,

Everything melts away like lemon drops made wonderful by Slaine.

Inaho melts away,

Like a lemon drop made softer by Slaine.


End file.
